It's Not Just About the Chase
by Ali989969
Summary: Draco's jealousy causes him to speak without thinking. Hermione makes him work for her forgiveness. Each clue for his hunt brings about a specific memory to lead him to the next clue. Does he find her in time? This story has no Voldemort, but touches on blood prejudice and house rivalries. M for language and some citrus-y stuff. OOC, 7th-year story, fluffy, no angst
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I started this over the summer when I heard Adam Levine sing "I'm following the map that leads to you (following following following). I wrote obsessively... then I saw the True Blood finale and I started on an insane plot bunny from that mess. I love me some Eric Northman. HOWEVER, I got my notebooks mixed up when I went to Starbucks for typing day - free wifi and white chocolate mochas? Yes please! I can only do that when my kids are with their dad, so it's an every 2-weeks kind of thing. It's my happy time. I wanted to get this whole sucker written before posting, but only the first chapter is proofed to my satisfaction. RealJena is my lifesaver of a beta and she's a world-class gal. Love her. Almost all of the chapters are shorter than my usual, but I couldn't really help that since I wrote this as a massive 1-shot that went insane. I didn't want to post a 21k word 1-short, so we have 12 medium chapters. This is entirely fluffy (a teensy bit of drama thrown in for action, but no where near angst level) Hope you're intrigued enough to tell me if you want more. Enjoy!**

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"We're going, Blaise! I can't believe we're really going!" Granger squeals from down the hall. When I turn the corner, I see her wrapped around my housemate and best friend.

"That we are, Mya. Why are you so surprised? We weren't named head students for nothing," Blaise replies to her simpering with the air of confidence that we Slytherin are known for. He returns her embrace and swings her around, not caring who sees them. When he ducks down to kiss her forehead, his eyes flash up to meet mine. With a huge grin, he wraps his arm around her shoulders and turns to greet me. That infamous smile of his falters at my disdainful sneer.

"Well, well, well. Don't the two of you look _cozy_. One can only imagine what untoward activities take place in that Head's dorm. I'm sure Greengrass would _not_ be happy," I drawl, making sure both Granger and Zabini know how displeased I am with their affection. I know they're friends, but he needs to keep his hands _and lips_ to himself. I have to keep up the charade for anyone who might come across us. The maddening facade that Granger and I have had to hide behind for the past eight months.

"Oh Malfoy… it's sad really, this pettiness of yours. Blaise and I are managing to contribute something worthwhile to our society and you… well… what have you done that matters to anyone besides your _mummy?_" the witch asks me with a curl of fury marring her rose-colored lips. Her apple-cider eyes glare and it seems like the little gold flecks around her pupils spark with her anger.

It's not _my_ fault they can't keep their hands to themselves. "What in Merlin's names could _you_ be doing benefit society? You're just a Muggle-born, only here because of some mutated gene that made you fortunate enough to be classified as a 'witch'."

She gasps and Zabini pats her shoulder comfortingly before stepping toward me. With a sniffle and quivering lip, she quickly turns on the ball of her foot and runs down the corridor. Blaise and I both stand stalled in the hall until she turns a corner and is gone from sight. Finally alone, I grab the front of my "friend's" robes and shove him against the wall. "What the fuck, B?"

Since we're evenly matched in height and strength, he is able to release himself from my grasp easily. "I know you guys have to play the parts of barely-friends, but damn, bro… that was harsh, even for you. Do you have the foggiest idea what we were so happy about?"

Sneering, I cross my arms over my chest. "No, but I bet you're going to tell me, aren't you?"

Dark green eyes roll in annoyance and he opens the dragon-skin messenger bag against his hip. Thrusting a thick stack of parchment into my hands, he explains. "Granger and I are the only students who have mastered ancient runes, arithromancy, _and_ history of magic, despite Binns' sleep-inducing lectures. She and I have been offered apprenticeships to study the recently found proof of a Wizarding society in Pompeii before Vesuvius erupted. It's some of the earliest evidence and could be where some of today's spells and potions originated. Not only do we get to work with curse-breakers and charms masters, but we'll actually be able to get into the site and do some of the work for ourselves. Merlin forbid we be proud of that. No, we have to put aside our excitement because _Draco_ might misinterpret an innocent hug between friends when he should know better. Grow up, Drake." With a final disdainful scowl, he shakes his head disappointedly and walks off, leaving me alone in the hall with a load of parchment that I couldn't begin to understand.

Shit.

I'd known Hermione and Blaise were working on a project together. She'd told me as much. Knowing my reactions around her, I'd probably gotten distracted by the excited flush of her cheeks and tuned out what she was telling me. At her insistence, we had been keeping our relationship a secret. According to her, we all deserved a drama-free final year and the news of the Gryffindor Princess and the Slytherin Prince together would certainly lead to drama on both sides of the Great Hall. After seeing how many of my housemates still glared at the trio of Gryffindors, I had to accept that she was right. So during the day we act as though we barely accept each other and find time together at night and on the weekends in the Room of Requirement or other special, secluded places we've discovered over the year.

I know I need to apologize. From the look in her eyes, she knew I was merely being possessive and was jealous that she was being affectionate with _my friend_, another _Slytherin_, out in the open. It's not fair that their friendship as Head Boy and Girl is tolerated, but if _I_ were to walk down the hall with her, having a simple conversation about potions, the stares and whispers would fuel gossip for weeks. It's not fair, but it's not her fault.

I walk up to the owlery and use a spare piece of parchment to request she meet me in the Room of Requirement tonight. I hate leaving things between us unresolved. My owl, Ares, nips my finger a little roughly as I tie the note to his leg, almost as though he knows I've upset one of the few humans he likes. I dig a treat from my pocket, wince as Ares' beak pecks my palm, and send him off with instructions to find Hermione. He's never failed. I wait all day and never get a response, but I hope against hope that she'll be there when I arrive.

I pace in front of the blank wall, thinking of the room that appears for us every time. The giant oak door materializes and I enter anxiously. I walk around our cozy common room for two and attached bedroom, but she's not there. On the mantle over the fireplace is a folded note with my name in her neat, block-style writing.

_Draco,_

_You know that what you said to me today hurt me terribly, even though I know you have a part to play. I also know that you're reading this, wanting to apologize for letting your brain lose a race against your tongue. However, my dear Slytherin, I can't make it too easy for you. You'll have to work for my forgiveness this time. Find what I've left you in this room and you'll have your first clue. Work quickly, Draco. I hope you find me before dawn. I'll be waiting, so please don't disappoint me… again._

_Hermione_

Fuck. Her love of puzzles could make this difficult; I only hope that her affection for logic also has a place in her test of me. Logic, I can work with. After several minutes of looking around and starting to feel frustrated, a bright flash of color catches the very edge of my vision. I turn and stalk toward the edge of the room where the color appeared. There, in the corner of the room, are Hermione's very bright, well-worn, pink running shoes.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Wow... a lot of favorites and alerts made my heart happy. But only 1 review made me a little pouty. Oh well, maybe this will help. Normally I have the awesomest beta ever, but she's dealing with some personal heartbreak, so I did the best I could alone. Please forgive any errors if they're spotted. Anywho... here's the next chapter for characters I don't own in the slightest and am borrowing from the UH-MAY-ZING JKR.**

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For some inexplicable reason, I couldn't sleep in before the first day of classes. The Slytherin dorms just weren't as fun without Blaise. Finding myself unable to go back to sleep among the snores and grunts of Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott, I resignedly showered and dressed before heading to the Heads' dorm to meet my best friend for breakfast. He had always been an early riser.

It wasn't until I stood in front of the portrait of the Founders – all bickering about something – that I realized that I had no idea what password Blaise and Granger would have set. I tried everything from the clichéd "Unity" to the Founders' names to, in desperation, naming random sweets as though either Head student would share Dumbledore's obsession.

Scowling at the painted Gryffindor, who smirked in response to my frustration, I almost missed the heavy breathing behind me. Apprehensively, I slowly turned around. The last thing I expected was the sight before me.

Granger. Sweaty and panting in clothes the likes I'd never seen before. "Close your mouth, Malfoy. You're liable to catch flies," she quipped drily before blowing a loose curl out of her face.

I forced my jaw shut, but didn't stop my appraisal of the Head Girl. The coffee-colored curls were still untamed, but no longer frizzy, making her look unkempt. With her amber eyes sparkling and the apples of her cheeks flushed pink, she actually looked as though she woke up to a rough shag.

Those unique eyes rolled at my staring and muttered "_Isola d'Elba_" to the Founders. With solemn nods from the two men and two women, the portrait swung open. I followed her in silently and got my first glance at the Heads' Dorm.

Dominating the room were neutrals in shades of tan, black, and white. Only accents like green and gold throw pillows or crimson curtains with silver ties hinted at the houses the Head students belonged to. It was warm, cozy, and illuminated with the rays of early morning sunlight. As I took in everything, I couldn't help but notice how Granger clashed with the understated elegance of her common room… and how much she had changed over the summer since I'd last seen her.

The top she wore was a shade of purple surely never found in nature and clung to her body like no material I'd ever encountered. Her midriff was exposed between the hem of that top and the waistband of her shorts…

_Dear Merlin, those shorts!_

Shiny, stretchy black fabric that molded to toned thighs and an arse tighter than I'd ever seen before. All-in-all, the bookworm was a walking fucking fantasy. Not acceptable. "Bloody hell, Granger! What are you wearing?"

"What?" she asked cluelessly, as if she didn't know how she looked. Her eyes looked down at her outrageous ensemble. "What's wrong with it?"

"Where's the rest of it?" I managed to force through clenched teeth. It was far too early to notice her small-but-perky tits, the slightly defined planes of her stomach, the length of her legs and how I could suddenly image them totally bare and wrapped around my waist… and where the fuck was Blaise? I needed his presence to rescue me from the lurid images flashing through my head.

Before I could pose the question, the portrait opened to a sweating and huffing version of my best friend. "How the fuck did you beat me, Granger? I know I'm faster than you."

The smirk on her face was worthy of a Slytherin. "Wizarding robes and boots are sturdy, but not very aerodynamic or made for comfort during exercise. My Muggle workout clothes and trainers were made with running in mind. Just looking at what you're wearing makes me feel heavy and slow. Think you'll be willing to try things my way now?"

His dark green eyes peered down at her cautiously. "What way?"

She retrieved a box from her room and handed it to him. "I got it when we received our Head badges. Daphne helped me get the right sizes."

Hearing his girlfriend was involved comforted him significantly. I watched over his shoulder as he opened the box. Curiously, he looked over the several pairs of light-weight shorts and black trainers far more masculine than her bright pink ones. "Daph told me that you run to build your endurance for Quidditch, but you refused to consider Muggle advances in exercise. If little ole me can beat big, strong you, don't you think it's worth trying out?"

He nodded, giving her an eyes roll that was only slightly patronizing. "Fine, Granger. I'll try it out. But you're getting up every morning to run with me. I refuse to be seen dressed as a Muggle alone.

Her satisfied smile might as well have lit up the room. "Aw Blaisey… once the girls of Hogwarts see you running shirtless, _I'll_ get thank you notes, _Daphne_ will get dirty looks for having the view on-demand, and _you'll_ never want for a running partner again."

When Blaise chuckled good-naturedly at what he thought was an exaggeration, Granger giggled too before voicing her intention to shower before breakfast. As she sauntered to her room, my friend proved that his smart-ass was just waiting for an opportunity to have its say. "By the way, Granger… those shorts of yours made running behind you more of a treat than I expected. If you had to humiliate me, at least I got to watch your arse while you did it."

Her face blushed bright enough to match her garish trainers and she gasped in mock-horror before slamming her door. The thought of the "scenery" was how I found myself running laps around the Black Lake before breakfast with the Head Boy and Girl for company.

**XxXxXxXxXx**

Curious as to what I'll find, I decide to visit the small dock where Blaise, Hermione, and I would meet. Eventually we were joined by Daphne and paired off. Occasionally the girls would run together, forcing Blaise and me to slow to a jog to enjoy the view from behind them, but usually Granger and I were together by default as the established couple wanted their time together… and so Greengrass could prove ownership of the newest draw for Hogwarts females aged thirteen to eighteen.

Neither of us had the breath to talk while we ran, but would start chatting as we walked a cool-down lap. Her intelligence didn't surprise me, but her sense of humor did. For a girl who had seemed to be a serious and studious prude, some of her jokes were filthy enough to make _me_ blush. It eventually got to the point where all she's have to do is smirk at me with a mischievous glint in her eyes and my cheeks would start to heat up. What I wouldn't have given to have been able to read her mind.

The sky is clear when I arrive at the lake. Stars reflect on the calmly rippling surface and the only sound is the soft slapping of the water against the shore. I see material tied to one of the dock posts, fluttering in the breeze. When I release it, the heavy, thick green cotton almost slips through my hands. I have to search my memory and can't help but smile when the shirt in question comes to mind.

**AN2: Please R&amp;R**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: It's 5:00 AM on a damn Sunday... one of the few days i can sleep in and I'm awake. *grumble &amp; growl* I need some effing coffee. I meant to post this chapter Friday, but I forgot. Don't be uber-surprised if I post again tonight. Reviews encouraged, but not required. Enjoy!**

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"And how is it _my_ fault that my parents bought a vacation villa less than a kilometer away from the Zabini Estate, Ronald? You knew I was spending the summer there. Am I to blame that he and I ran into each other by chance on the beach?" Granger's angry voice echoed on the bridge in the chilly evening air.

"It's your fault that you became friends with a stinking Slytherin. And not just one! I've seen you walking and talking with that Greengrass bint and Harry says he's caught you running with Malfoy. _Malfoy_!" How the Weasel managed to shout and whine at the same time was beyond me.

"I met Daphne in Italy. She's a very nice girl, which you'd know if you'd ever deign to even meet her. She's not obsessed with clothes, make-up, and Divination like the Gryffindor girls. Daph and I can talk about books and potions and…"

"And your Slytherin boyfriends? I didn't like you living with Zabini, but you had an excuse. Why the bloody hell are you hanging out with other Slytherins _voluntarily_?"

Granger's voice lowered to a menacing hiss; I had to strain to hear her. "Draco Malfoy is not my boyfriend, but why would you care if he was? _You're_ not my father or boyfriend and you have _no_ say in who I spend my time with. For your information, Ronald, Draco and I actually have a good deal in common…"

"Oh really," Weasley scoffed and I had to stop myself from revealing myself to smash my fist into his mouth for his disrespect. "Are _your_ parents dark-magic loving purebloods too or are they just prejudiced against anyone who isn't just like them?"

"My parents may be Muggles," she huffed a weary sigh, "but he grew up wealthy; so did I. His parents have expectations of academic excellence just like mine. I was dressed up and shown off at parties and dinners like an accessory instead of a person, just like him. He likes to read for the same reasons I do. I like ancient runes for the same reasons he does. Yes, Draco Malfoy is a pureblood Slytherin, but because _I've_ taken the time to get to know him… and Blaise Zabini… and Daphne Greengrass… I can tell you with absolute certainty that neither their blood status, nor their school house, nor the size of their families' Gringott's vaults define who they are. Now leave me alone, Ron. I don't want to talk to you when you're acting like this."

"Fine," I heard him grunt. "But don't come to me for comfort when they hurt you. And they will, Hermione. It's the only thing you can count on a Slytherin to do." His heavy footsteps echoed then disappeared.

"I know you're there, Draco. You can come out now," she called. When I stepped from the shadows, she shook her head and breathed a small laugh. "I was bluffing. I didn't know if you were there or not."

I shrugged and took a seat next to her on the bridge. "I didn't want to interrupt. You put Weasley in his place quite nicely."

Her eyes rolled. "I've had six years of practice. I don't know why he doesn't understand that his unfounded bigotry based on a _hat's_ decision made when we were _eleven_ is just as bad a prejudice based on race or blood-status. He judges you Slytherins more harshly that any of you have ever judged me. You at least gave me a chance. I'm _really_ glad you gave me a chance, Draco." She looks up at me with a shy smile before shivering and wrapping her arms around herself. "I hate when fall starts turning to winter. I forget every year that it happens so much earlier than I'm used to this far north."

Without thinking about it, I shrugged off the heavy button down shirt I wore over my uniform and wrapped it around her shoulders. She pulled it tight around herself and inhaled deeply. "It smells like you. Like pine and the ocean and…" she closed her eyes and breathed in again, "… something that must just be you."

I looked into her caramel eyes. "And when I get it back it'll smell like vanilla and jasmine." Tucking a loose curl behind her ear, I told her, "You always smell like that, even after running." I didn't feel the need to mention that the sensual aroma of her perfume mixed with clean sweat had begun featuring prominently in both my nightly dreams and "alone time" fantasies.

It felt right, being there on the bridge alone with Grang… _Hermione_. I ducked down to kiss her cheek, tinted pink from the night chill. Just a sweet, chaste gesture of friendship.

She chose _that_ moment to turn her head toward me.

When my lips brushed hers, it caused a finger of sensation to race down my spine. One I hadn't felt since my first kiss at twelve with Tracy Davis during a Slytherin game of "Spin the Wand". Hermione gasped and pulled her head back with eyes widened by surprise. I couldn't say anything – my mind was frozen on her petal-soft lips and the intoxicating scent perfuming her coffee-colored curls and wafting from her pulse points. All the while, her curious light-brown eyes bored into mine. Right before I intended to turn my head and play everything off as an accident, those rosy lips lifted in a small smile. Leaning in, taking advantage of my locked-up state, she wound her arms around my shoulders and _properly_ acquainted her mouth with mine.

The creamy ginger of the chai tea she drank after dinner flavored her tongue when she ran it slowly over my lower lip. Slender fingers nestled into my hair, their functionally-short nails lightly scratched my scalp when her teeth gently nibbled the same spot her tongue just glided over. That nip was what it took to release me from my daze and join the action.

I pulled her petite form into my lap when I enthusiastically kissed her back and felt her grin against my lips. Twining my own hand into her curly locks, I tilted her head and released her mouth. I wanted – no, _needed_ – to know if she tasted as delicious as she smelled. I nipped the soft skin of her neck, then soothed the spot with brushes of my lips. The vanilla-jasmine of her perfume combined with the peaches and honey flavor of her skin. The blend tasted like some exotic liqueur. I knew instantly I was addicted and couldn't muffle my pathetic whimper when Hermione broke away and slid off my lap. Her panting breaths and glazed eyes made me feel a little better though.

"I've wanted to do that for ages," she whispered and rested her head on my shoulder.

Innocently, I kissed the top of her head and indulged again in her scent. "So have I," I admitted quietly.

**XxXxXxXxXx**

That was where "we" started. To make things easier on everyone (namely her and me), we kept it to ourselves. Besides my best friend and his girlfriend, no one else seemed as though they had any clue. Anyone who mattered would learn about us _after_ we left the hallowed halls of Hogwarts.

If there is still an "us" to learn about.

Deciding to indulge my nostalgia further, I make my way to the covered stone bridge. I close my eyes and recall the way that first kiss that Hermione and I shared (and every one after it) made my stomach flutter and heart twist in my chest. When I open my eyes, I see something floating in the open air over the gorge. When I summon it to me with my wand, I can't help but smile. I lose myself in the memories of that night often, but the feel of the flimsy fabric brings it to mind with even more detail than usual.

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**Please review! Lovingly betaed by the amazing and awesome RealJena! XO**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: So here is the second chapter for today. I'm hoping the changes I made to the summary adds some readers and gets a few more reviews. Feeling kinda disheartened here. *pout with puppy-dog eyes* Mucho love to RealJena for the beta job. Since I've been up since 5, I'm needing some sleep. Enjoy!**

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A costume-masquerade ball. I couldn't think of anything more corny and clichéd. Halloween had already passed and the Yule Ball was strictly a Triwizard Tournament tradition. Maybe McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout had bullied Snape into joining them in an appeal to Dumbledore. Blaise said it had been pitched under the guise of "building house unity", but I privately thought that the staff just wanted to get pissed on spiked punch. The liquor that the students could get their hands on was definitely of better quality than what the teachers could afford on their meager salaries.

The Head students and house prefects were required to escort each other for some unknown, stupid reason. Many of my schoolmates were unhappy with the situation, but Hermione and Daphne were not among them; it actually worked in their favor. Neither Blaise nor I were aware of their plan in advance.

Although I detested the idea of being costumed, I had to admit that Granger's outfit for me wasn't _terrible_. By adding a black satin eye-mask and a hooded cape to my usual black-on-black ensemble, I made a passable highwayman. Blaise, always the more dramatic of the two of us, delighted in creating and wearing his sheik costume.

After we were dressed, the girls descended the steps in unison. I hadn't realized how similar their bodies were until that moment. Both were petite with modest breasts, small waists, and curvy hips. Daph was possibly a bit taller and Hermione's waist may have been a bit smaller, but nothing immediately noticeable.

The Head Girl and Seventh-Year Slytherin prefect were dressed almost identically. Both wore sleeveless silk sheaths with strategically ragged hemlines and glittery wings affixed to their backs. Strangely, Daphne's dress was a mix of reds, oranges, and yellows – a flame-like blend that matched Hermione's coloring better. Conversely, Granger's dress was dyed with light blues, greens, and violets – a cool pallet that fit Daphne's complexion and personality far more than Hermione's. Both wore silver heeled sandals that laced up their legs to the knee and matching silver lace eye-masks.

Sharing a grin at our obvious male confusion, the girls simultaneously waved their wands over their heads. Daphne's shoulder-length blonde locks lengthened, curled, and darkened to mahogany. Hermione's riotous curls straightened and turned gold, shrinking back into her scalp until they just brushed the straps of her fairy dress. Only Daphne's ice-blue eyes gave away the fact that I was not looking at my secret girlfriend…

Apparently no longer a _total_ secret.

Blonde Hermione – with the same honey-colored eyes – grinned at me. "Now Daph and Blaise can be each other's dates and you and I can attend together." Turning to the Head Boy and his significant other, she advised, "Try to avoid Harry and Ron. They're both crabby because Ron has to escort his ex and Gin is stuck with the other sixth year Gryffindor prefect. Those two griping and complaining is something no one wants to be around."

The couple nodded their understanding and walked away. Seeing Daphne's hand on Blaise's arm was all the stranger because I knew Hermione was still beside me. Knowing me as well as she did, she answered my question before I had to ask. "Daph and I came up with the idea together. As appealing as you are, you can't compare to Blaise in her eyes. And as much as I adore Blaise as a friend, the idea of spending time with you is even better. She and I have shared clothes since we became friends in Italy, so I knew we had similar frames. All it took was some practice with glamour charms and the willingness to bend a couple of rules. Now all four of us come out winners."

I cocked an eyebrow at her. "Any reason you clued them in to 'us' without my input?" I wasn't mad, but I did want to know why she gave up the secret we'd clung to for more than two months.

With Daphne's blond hair, my girlfriend's smirk looked positively Slytherin. "Your poker face needs some work, love. Blaise knows you better than almost anyone and he's seen the difference. You don't look at me the same way you look at Pansy or Susan or Padma. When you look at them, you don't _see_ them. They're nonentities to you. You _see_ me. Blaise told me that when you look at me, your eyes get a little brighter and you don't always catch yourself before you smile. He actually approached me about setting us up… he was playing match-maker and was talking you up like you wouldn't believe. I thought I'd put him out of his misery and tell him the truth. And the fact is if you tell Blaise something, you might as well tell Daphne too. I don't think he's capable of keeping a secret from her. He's too smitten."

I'd known that Blaise suspected _something_, but I had no idea that my expressions had given away so much without my knowledge.

_Father would be so disappointed in me_.

I kissed the tip of her nose then her forehead; her lower lip pouted when I refused to do more. My mind _knew_ it was Hermione. Her scent was the same, her skin felt and tasted the same, and her eyes remained their unique golden-amber, but with Greengrass' wheat-colored locks, it felt too much like I was cheating on the girl I was pretty sure I was falling in love with. I brushed the blonde hair off her shoulder and met her eyes. The butterscotch irises darkened in understanding and after stretching on her toes to kiss my cheek, straightened her silver mask, and linked her arm with mine.

In the Great Hall, the various costumes weren't as intriguing as the forced pairings. The Brown girl from Gryffindor scowled at Weasley and I recalled their messy break-up during sixth year. The ginger paid no attention to his ex and instead stalked her Indian roommate/best friend around the hall with his eyes. Potter leaned against the far wall in his pirate garb and stared at the female Weasley longingly as she chatted and laughed with the Creevy kid that was always taking pictures. I saw nine other pairings that looked just as forced as they actually were and was grateful that Daphne and I were known to be friends so my comfort with "her" at my side wouldn't seem strange.

Hermione and I made our way over to Blaise and the actual Daphne. Blaise hugged Granger to further the pretense before all four of us sat at a table. Platters of hors d'oeuvres and glasses of butterbeer appeared at our fingertips.

The night was more fun than I had anticipated. Blaise danced with Hermione-as-Daphne and I talked with Daphne-as-Hermione. My friend's girlfriend was more perceptive than I gave her credit for.

"You two really are perfect for each other. I regret not getting to know her sooner," she said offhandedly watching her man and my girl dance closer than I was really comfortable with.

"You met in Italy, right?" I asked for clarification

Daphne breathed a self-conscious giggle, which was most unlike her. "I made the trip with the intention of surprising Blaise. When I saw him chatting up this hot brunette on the beach, I was mad enough to hex off his hair. When I found when I found out it was Granger I almost lost it… and as soon as Blaise saw me he knew. Before he could say anything, Hermione stepped up, introduced herself, and said she was relieved to see me because she didn't know how much more Quidditch talk she could take. I was suspicious, but found out I didn't need to be." She rolled her eyes and grinned. "Those two argue like brother and sister, but they were fast friends away from the house rivalry of Hogwarts. The three of us would relax and play on the beach… Granger and I would go to the mainland to shop and she had no problem making herself scarce when Blaise and I wanted to be alone. I quickly learned that Hermione Granger is as loyal as any Hufflepuff, smarter than any Ravenclaw, mischievous as _almost_ any Slytherin not to mention having the courage her house is known for in abundance.

"Draco, I could tell the first week of classes that you found her attractive and were intrigued by how she's changed since last year. Of course, it helps that she doesn't hang around Potter and Weasley as much anymore. Now that you can see what a lot of guys are finally starting to realize – that Granger's a catch, no matter her blood status – you need to tell her how you feel about her… or you might lose her to someone who isn't scared of those nasty, terrifying emotions that we Slytherins are loathe to admit we have."

Before I could reply, the music ended and our significant others returned to our sides. Hermione dragged Daphne away so they could "powder their noses", which even I knew meant gossip. When they exited the Great Hall, Blaise leaned in.

"Mate, find a way to keep Hermione away from our dorm room tonight. Silencing spells are well and good, but Daphne gets self-conscious if Granger is just two doors away," he said in a strange, strained voice.

"Any ideas you want to share? Because my dorm isn't an option if and I have no doubt that the Room of Requirement is already occupied because of the forced escorts," I asked, scowling at the inconvenience and internally doing a very un-Malfoylike happy dance at the idea of spending the night with my girl.

Blaise drummed his fingers on the table in thought for several minutes before his eyes brightened. "The Shrieking Shack! Granger's been working on fixing it up for a couple of years. She goes down there occasionally to get some quiet and clear her head when she gets stressed. I bet that both of you will appreciate the privacy," he smirked with waggling eyebrows.

"Git," I said with an eye roll. "If it's so great, why don't you take Greengrass there and let Hermione have the dorm?"

He dropped the smarmy grin and shrugged his shoulders. "Because that's 'Mione's spot. She's the one who put the effort into making it comfortable. It wouldn't be right for Daphne and me to defile her place."

The girls returned and I quickly pulled my temporarily–blonde girlfriend to the dance floor. It was hard to resist sliding my hand from its proper position at her waist to cup the tight arse that teased me from under her short and shimmery fairy dress, but somehow I managed to maintain propriety.

"Can I…" she started quietly, "…can I show you somewhere kind of special to me when we leave here? I sort of… want to be alone with you," she shyly mumbled, her cheeks flushed a delicious pink that made me think of candy floss.

Since our first kiss on the bridge, the physical aspects of our relationship had progressed. It surprised me how comfortable she was with her body, although considering her exercise apparel, it shouldn't have. Neither of us were virgins, but we both thoroughly enjoyed learning what we could do to drive the other mad. Besides the obvious, I discovered that nuzzling the wispy curls at the nape of her neck would give her shivers and goosebumps. Likewise, feeling her fingernails graze through and tease the line of fine hair trailing down from my navel made my stomach muscles clench involuntarily as I would gasp. Although I had seen all of her and she had seen all of me, we had yet the cross that final line with each other.

I lost my cherry to Theo's cousin Esmeralda the summer after I turned sixteen. My family spent the warmer months on the Riviera with the Notts and Parkinsons. My virginity was given to a nineteen-year-old on a French beach; a black haired, sloe-eyed beauty that hadn't begun to make me feel the things that the usually curly-haired brunette in my arms did.

All Hermione would tell me about her first was that it happened the New Year's Eve after she turned seventeen. He was an older Gryffindor that had graduated years before us and that she hadn't told anyone else – not Potter, not Weasel, nor Weaselette – for fear of disapproval. I would bet on one of the older Weasley boys or the Quidditch player Wood, but she'd said I'd never guess and to drop it.

After most of the students had left for their dorms – including Blaise and Daphne – my girlfriend and I discreetly made our way out of the Great Hall. After making sure that Filch wasn't around, we slipped onto the grounds and Hermione levitated a rock to hit the knot that froze the Whomping Willow.

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**AN2: I'm pretty sure the next chapter is the longest one. Please let me know what you think to keep me encouraged!**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Extremely disheartened by the lack of reviews, but whatever. This was fun to write. Since there is no Voldy in my world, James, Lily, and Sirius are still alive, JSYK. Hope the lemons below are worth maybe a few words letting me know how it was. I'm always insecure about these kinds of scenes. RealJena was the world's best cheerleader and beta, though. Enjoy!**

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I'd never been down that particular passage and was surprised at how well-tended the underground dirt path was… until I remembered that Hermione Jane Granger, perfectionist, was the sole visitor to our destination. Her fingers intertwined with mine, her thumb absently stroking the outside of my own. The only sign of her nervousness was her slightly clammy palm, damp in spite of the chilly temperature.

The end of the tunnel opened directly into a dark hall with the warped hardwood floor and walls with faded peeling wallpaper. We both whispered "_lumos_" and she led me to a staircase.

With a silent flick of her wand, I could see that the upstairs interior it was far nicer. The main sitting room had a large stone fireplace and mint green walls that were calming rather than institutional. In one corner was a plush, tan suede recliner next to a side table piled with books. Candles flickered happily in aged bronze wall sconces, casting dancing shadows over the polished oak floorboards. An overstuffed couch of burgundy velour sat facing the hearth and white painted rocking chair filled the opposite corner.

"This is my relaxation zone. I come here when I just need to get away. Anyone who's known me at all for the last six and a half years has learned to look for me in the library, so I don't go there often anymore. I feel like a stranger in the Gryffindor common room now and as much as I like Blaise, he's not a calm person to be around. I never know if the ROR will be occupied at any given time… So I put my efforts into finishing this place. I like having a place on my own. Maybe I can leave a note for the future Head Girls. The job is way more stressful than it seems."

I nodded while looking around, taking everything in. None of the furniture matched, but somehow everything fit together. "I can see you being comfortable here. How did Blaise know about this place and I didn't?" I couldn't help but feel insecure and jealous about their friendship.

Her eyes rolled and she smirked. "Daphne, of course. I told her to let me know when to scram so she could be alone with her man. The sweet girl wanted to know where I would go because she didn't want me sleeping in the hall or something. So I told her about my little hideaway. As always, when you tell one of them, you might as well tell them both."

I nodded, knowing that fact better than I would've liked to. I sat down heavily on the couch and sank into the richly upholstered cushions. "So do you sleep on _this"_?" I asked. "It doesn't seem like it would be very comfortable."

"No…" She hedged, giving me a shy–seductive glance that never failed to make my mouth go dry. "Once I realized I'd be spending some nights here, I set up a proper bedroom." Hermione led me down a candlelit hall to a plain oak door that matched the floor. When she opened the door for me to enter, I found myself thinking that I'd never seen a room fit its resident more perfectly.

The walls were very pale lavender, offset by white crown molding, baseboards, and windowsills. Navy blue curtains framed the windows and the walls were lined with blonde pine bookshelves; every shelf filled with leather-bound spines that were cracked with age or creased from use.

However, the centerpiece of the room was the bed. It was a medium stained, light wood sleigh bed with a headboard carved with an intricate vine design, much like her wand. The bedding was a very feminine paisley pattern in pastels – violet, blue, green, and pink. A plush off-white rug was spread on the floor, protecting the polished boards from the feet of the bed.

"How did you get all of this stuff here?" I asked amazedly. I'd seen flats in Diagon Alley not as nice as this "shack".

"Oh, I had help. As amazing as I am, not even I could have done this alone. Lily and Sirius helped."

My brows raised in surprise. "Lily _Potter_ and Sirius _Black_? Why…?"

Hermione slipped her silver heels off at the door, removed her silver mask, and took a seat on the bed. "When I told them of my plan to fix this place up back in Fifth Year, Lily had fun scouting Muggle antique shops for the furniture. She owled me catalogs for the decorations and bedding. I may have used my charm to sucker Sirius to move everything in for me when he would visit Hogsmeade. I'd rearrange things in my leisure when I'd come down here. It's cozy and private… What do you think?"

She looked apprehensive about my reaction, but I was just honored that she let me into somewhere that was so special to her. I crossed the floor to stand in front of her, to tell her what I thought… and couldn't. "No… This isn't right…" I mumbled under my breath.

"What?" She gasped, her face a mask of hurt. "How can you…"

I wanted to clear this up as fast as possible. "_Finite_," I stated loudly over her upset squawking. With relief, I watched the blonde tresses lengthen, darken, and curl. "If I wanted to look at Daphne, I would. I want to see _you_."

She stopped her swearing and stared at me intently. After several moments of silence, she asked, "You wouldn't rather have one of your pureblood princesses down here? I'm just me, Draco. Plain old Hermione Granger, Muggle-born Head Girl, who would rather read and study than gossip and giggle. I'm boring. Are you sure you want _me_?"

Rather than answering her with a simple yes or no, I addressed her points. "One – I do not want, as you say, a pureblood Princess. I have no desire to spend time with a vapid doll who only wants to discuss the latest issue of _Witch Weekly_. Two – I love that you're smart and well-read. Going along with the last point, you think I have any interest in the latest fashions of Wizarding Paris or what kind of robes are best for witches' bodies? I am a guy – I don't care. But you… we can talk about potions and runes and charms. If I hadn't had the flu in sixth year, making me miss two weeks of classes, I would have been Head Boy. Three – the fact that you'd rather go for a run than go to a party is pleasantly unusual. It's been easier to get to know you during our morning laps than it would have been during some house party or school event. Four – you're not boring, and by Merlin, you are _anything_ but plain. You're quirky and brave, proud and funny, smart and…," I reached out and cupped her face, "… so fucking sexy it's hard for me to see straight when I'm with you. So yes, I'm sure that I want you, Hermione Granger. But can you truly say the same in return?"

If I hadn't been almost completely sure of her response, I wouldn't have asked. But I still felt relief when her rosebud lips lifted in the sweet smile I loved. "You aren't as cold as you act. You feel things more than you let on. Those gray eyes of yours may look like ice, but they're truly windows into your soul. When you're angry or confused, little flecks of black stand out at the edge of your irises. Green specks around your pupils almost twinkle when you're feeling happy or playful. But my favorite is when a ring of dark blue stands out against the gray. I've only ever seen it when you're looking at me. It doesn't matter if we're arguing, kissing, or just studying, but when I see those rings of blue I know you _see_ me. And every time I see those, I'm reminded why I wanted you to kiss me. No one else really _sees_ who I am. I'm the friend, the head girl, the bookworm. The tutor, the swot, the overly–proud Muggle–born Gryffindor. You're the only one I've let see me as more than those generic labels. You also know me as the flirt, the occasional tease, and the dirty joke teller. I'm the sporadic rule–bending troublemaker." Her whiskey eyes flashed in the flickering candlelight. "I'm the secret girlfriend who could never get tired of kissing you. The Muggle–born that feels like she's on fire when your pureblood fingers touch her. The swot that is turned on by your mind just as much as your body. The Head Girl who is a little relieved that Blaise was made Head Boy instead of you because sharing quarters with you would be a distraction I can't afford during our NEWT year. And I'm the woman who doesn't want to wait any longer to find out if our bodies fit together as perfectly as I think they will. So yes Draco, I think I can say truly that I want you in return."

The passion in her words and huskiness of her voice set my heart racing. Before I was aware of what I was doing, my mouth was on hers, savoring the sweetness of her lips. Her tongue danced around mine and I felt the vibrations of tiny whimpers from her throat. I wanted more.

I wrapped her cocoa curls around my fist and tilted her head to the side. My lips and teeth nipped at the side of her neck, and I wondered how her skin managed to taste so heavenly.

Her grasp on my biceps tightened and her breathing sped up. "Draco, I want you. Tonight. I really don't think I can wait any longer…" she sighed and her breath blew hot past my ear. Her kisses were an art form, and the way she touched me made me feel that my brain was melting. It felt like there was no way that I could get close enough to her to satisfy either of us.

My black trousers were uncomfortably tight as her petite body clung to mine. There was no way she couldn't feel what she was doing to me. My hands skimmed up her sides and cupped her breasts gently. I could tell that she was just as aroused as I was by the way her nipples poked tight against the gauzy fabric of her dress. I indulged and teased those golden–pink tips with flicks from my thumb, making her gasp and shudder.

I hadn't realized, but I was still fully costumed. Hermione gently removed my black mask and slid the hooded cape from my shoulders. Nimble, talented fingers unfastened the buttons of my shirt after untucking it from my slacks. There were few things better than the way her bare skin felt against mine. To return the favor, I ghosted my hands up her legs, under her dress, and removed the filmy garment from her body.

Before me, my girl stood, wearing sheer knickers and a strapless bra of the same silver lace that her mask was made from. I knew from our previous intimate encounters, that the Head Girl had quite the obsession with frilly undergarments and lingerie. Her underwear drawer was filled with swatches of lace, silk, and satin in more colors than I knew names for. Seeing her in that revealing finery was always one of the best parts of our alone time together; I could never decide whether I wanted to stare at her or rip the fabric from her body. Sometimes, I ended up doing both.

She was just as eager as I was. Wanting to relieve me of my clothes, she hastily unbuckled my belt and released the clasp of my slacks. Hermione didn't bother to hide the way that her amber colored eyes roamed my body, assessing every dip, rise, and angle. I knew my dark blue silk boxers did not hide my arousal as much as give my girl frustration in adding another layer for her to remove.

Neither of us were shy, but since she'd only been with the one man and I'd spent the summer playing with Esmeralda, I felt with my experience, it was my responsibility to take the lead. Moving slowly I approached her and never lost eye contact. I reached out and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close. One hand nestled into her curls, the other nonchalantly unclasped her bra and let the silver lace fall to the floor between us. The sensation of her soft breasts pressed against me was one that I would never get tired of. What surprised me though was how willingly she rubbed herself against me and the shakiness of her breath told me that she appreciated my touch as much as I looked forward to hers.

We made our way across the room and I laid her back on the bed. As I hovered over her, I could feel her shiver. "You're not scared, are you?" I asked her quietly.

"Not scared. Nervous. Anxious. Excited. But not scared. Not of this," she replied. "Definitely not of you."

I dipped down to kiss her gently. Resting my weight on one arm, I used my free hand to stroke down her body. Hermione's response was to arch into my touch and sigh against my lips. I kissed my way across her jaw, down her neck, and over her collarbone until my lips paused between the two most delicious tits that I'd ever seen. I took a nipple between my lips, began to suck and flexed my hips against her. The dual sensations caused her breathing to get more and more ragged. It's all I could do not to rip her knickers off and shag her then and there.

I took my time teasing, switching back and forth between her breasts. By the time I was ready to move on, she was writhing under me and making unintelligible noises that turned me on even more than I already was. Smirking to myself, I started kissing and nipping down her stomach. I made her giggle breathlessly when I briefly tongued her belly button. All that was between me and paradise now was a rather damp pair of silver lace panties. From my position, I flick my eyes up to her for permission. With her nod, I slipped my fingers under the waistband, slowly dragged the material down her legs and tossed them away over my shoulder.

The sight was nothing new, but still enthralling. Hermione was gorgeous naked. Between her thighs, she was almost bare, with just enough chestnut curls to remind one that she is _all_ woman. Her hips had a slight flare, emphasizing her small waist. Despite her slight stature, her legs seemed impossibly long. She still had faint tan lines from her summer in Italy; the skin that wasn't covered retained some of the golden bronze shade that she was at the start of school. "Do you have any idea of how beautiful you are?" I asked, my voice muffled by the thigh I was kissing.

"I know how beautiful you make me feel, Draco," she whimpered. "No one has made me feel the way you do."

I wanted to make her feel even more. While she hadn't told me his name, the tosser that took her virginity had only given her the bare bones experience of sex. Every time we tortured ourselves with the two months of foreplay that we'd indulged in, she told me how it was something new, something she'd loved learning about _from me_. When I knelt back and looked down at her, I felt myself grow harder. Despite the touching and dry humping we'd done, this was new for her. With a quick, small nod, I took the invitation, leaned back down, and swept my tongue through her folds. Her intimate flavor was sweet and tart and more delicious than I could have ever imagined. I had done this before with Esmeralda, but without much enthusiasm as I was more concerned with my pleasure than hers. When Hermione gasped and arched her back off the bed, I knew that I was going to make this _all_ about her.

I nipped and licked through her folds, moaning at the taste coating my tongue. The tip of my tongue traced circles around her opening before flicking teasingly over her bud. My witch was panting and biting her lip so enticingly; I took a break to remove her lip from her teeth. "I want to hear you, love. Let me hear how I make you feel."

Her cheeks flushed bright pink again, but she nodded quickly. I returned to my task of making her feel things she'd never felt before. My index finger slowly entered her and I was rewarded with a deep moan. Slowly, I slid the finger in and out of her sheath while my flattened tongue continued to lap at her clit. My eyes rolled back at the tightness pulsing around my finger. If her own words and absence of a barrier didn't convince me of the truth, I would believe she was still a virgin. I eased a second finger in, knowing I would need to stretch her so I wouldn't hurt her, and her back bowed again. My hand was getting soaked with her arousal and I wanted more than anything to see her let go completely.

Her hand mindlessly grabbed my hair and she thrust her hips toward my face. I grunted with the stinging of my scalp, she mewled at the vibration. Knowing from her sounds what she liked, I focused on making love to her first with my hand and mouth. Despite my cock being so hard it hurt, I refused to let it distract me. I wouldn't topple over the edge until she had fallen first.

The pulsing around my fingers got tighter and Hermione's moans were little more than eager keening. Her hips kept pace with my hand. The grasp on the comforter (and my hair) strengthened until, with a wail, her body stiffened and arced as she flooded my hand with her pleasure. I lapped up her honey and looked up. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was rough. I was most taken by the look of utter bliss on her beautiful face and vowed to myself to give her that rapture as often as I could.

While her body stopped shaking and her breathing slowly returned to normal, I stood and removed my boxers. It had been all I could do to not grind against the mattress as I went down on Hermione to get some sort of relief, but I was glad I had refrained. Yes, I was aching, but I wanted to come _in_ her. She shivered from the sweat on her skin chilling her in the cool room and blindly grabbed my hand to pull me to her side. I laid next to her and looked into her glazed maple eyes. "Welcome back."

"Draco, that was…" she sighed and wrapped her arm over my ribs, "…I never thought that it could be like _that_."

"Oh, I'm nowhere near done with you, love. That was just an appetizer of sorts… it certainly made me hungry for more," I replied with a small smirk that only widened when her leg slid between mine and grazed my erection.

"I was hoping you'd say that. Make love to me, Drake. I want to feel you everywhere."

I twisted our bodies so she was on her back again. Her legs opened before me so I could slide between them. She was still so wet from her orgasm that I could see her thighs glisten in the candlelight. Her feet hooked loosely behind my knees and met my eyes, nodding. I took myself in hand, stroked a few times, lined up and slowly sunk into my witch.

_FUCK_! Feeling her tightness on my fingers hadn't prepared me for how it would feel on my cock. I closed my eyes and mentally recited potions ingredients and Quidditch stats to keep from releasing immediately. Hermione's squeaky gasp made me open my eyes to see that I was as deep in her as I could get. "Please, move," she whined quietly.

I rose to my knees and her lovely legs wrapped around my waist, changing the angle enough to make her feel even tighter. Taking her hands in mine, I raised them above her head and hovered over her. I wanted to feel her snug and wet around me for as long as possible. The slow push-pull of my hips was met in an effortless rhythm by hers, allowing me to grind against her nub every time I thrust in. Her panting and whimpers let me know how she was enjoying the feeling of our connection, but it wasn't long until we both wanted more.

The urgency of her hips meeting mine started to throw off the smooth cadence we had set and I sped up to regain the tempo. Her hands flexed in my grasp and with effort, she opened her eyes. "Now, Draco. _Please_." I changed my clutch on her hands so they were both held and one so I could reach between us. Using the arousal that was coating me, I lubricated my finger to manipulate her sweet little pearl. She inhaled sharply and her hips undulated, trying to reach the same pinnacle I was.

"Come, Hermione… I can't… I need…" Clear thoughts were driven from my head at her tightness pulling me in deeper as her breath came in ragged gasps. "So good… please witch…" I babbled and finally felt her pulse around me. Her sobs of completion were dim behind the roaring in my ears from the waves of pleasure crashing over me as she milked me of my orgasm.

I fell to her side to avoid crushing her tiny frame under mine and wrapped my arms around her to hold her close. "That was… bloody hell, that was…" I stammered breathlessly.

She giggled, just as winded as I was. "I know. I think after a short nap, we should try that again. And again. And again."

We did. After sleeping for a short while, I awoke to her hot mouth around me, bringing my erection raging back to life. Neither of us slept much that night and ignored Blaise's smirk when we returned to the Heads' Dorm, bypassing him to catch up on rest in her bedroom.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: In all honesty, this is one of my favorite chapters and, if the gdoc comments are any indication, my wonderific beta, RealJena, is pretty darn fond of it also. I really, honesty, and truly appreciated the reviews I got for the last chapter and hope I get a few more for this chapter. Happy belated Valentine's and enjoy!**

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The memories of that first night, as well as several others spent in the shack's comfort and seclusion, has the expected effects on my body. I bend over and take deep breaths to will away the inconvenient erection. Fortunately, sooner rather than later, I'm able to leave my spot on the bridge and make my way to the grounds.

The clear night sky and the three-quarter moon make wandlight unnecessary. I easily make my way to the abusive willow tree and hit the knot with the stick to freeze it before one of the whip–like limbs can knock me off my feet. The underground path is well–worn now and I have the various dips and bumps memorized to avoid being tripped up.

When I enter the lower hall, it's as shabby and run–down as it was when Hermione and I entered after the dance. Ignoring the faded floral wallpaper, I easily head up the stairs to the sitting room. I bypassed the comfortable furniture that has been used during several study and make-out sessions to enter the bedroom.

I had thought Hermione would be waiting for me there, but the unlit, empty room proves me wrong. However, the lingering scent of her vanilla jasmine perfume sets off my longing. All I want is Hermione next to me so I can tell her how sorry I am for hurting her the way I did earlier. So I can wrap my arms around her and be reassured by her warmth.

I look around the room for my next clue and take a moment to appreciate the small change in décor. Even though her room in the Heads' Dorm is awash in crimson and gold, Hermione admitted to having no real affection for her house colors. If she had to choose, she said she'd like Ravenclaw's blue the best, but overall preferred lighter shades and pastels. Shell pinks, mint green, sky blue, pale lilac. She felt overwhelmed by jewel tones. The new bedding was a cream, tan, and light gray plaid that made the room feel warm despite its neutrality. Gray curtains replaced the navy blue and a color change spell made the walls tan. Since the end of the year was so close, I assume she changed her personal preferences so the room could be used as a hideaway for the next Head Girl.

I still can't find my clue. I wander back and forth between the two furnished rooms looking for something – _anything_ – that looked different or out of place, but nothing is catching my eye. Feeling fatigued due to the late hour, I go to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face. When I reach for a towel, I see it. There, by the drain of the shower stall, is my clue.

I reach in and retrieve the gold lion figurine. No bigger than a chess piece, it had been Blaise's birthday gift to her. Normally, it sat on her bookshelf with her textbooks, but it was charmed to stalk, pounce, roar, and even sleep. It seemed to find my stomach particularly comfortable on the nights I would doze off in Hermione's bed.

My clue leads to the Head Girl's bedroom. It's late enough that Blaise should be asleep and I hope that my hunt will soon be ending. I whisper the name of the Italian island to the only founder still awake – Ravenclaw – and step quietly through the portrait hole.

The Heads' Common Room is dark and silent. I go up the stairs to my right and use my wand to unlock Hermione's bedroom door. My faint hope that my search would end here is dashed by the Head Girl's absence among the Gryffindor colors.

I've replaced the lion figurine on its usual self. When it sees me, it chuffs and shakes its mane as though it's laughing at me. I roll my eyes and flop back onto the gold pillowcases at the head of the bed. The vanilla-jasmine-honey scent washes over me and I remember the first time I applied the scent to her body and hair with my own two hands.

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Hermione and I left the greenhouses late, trying to get ahead on a joint challenge from Snape and Sprout: do different fertilizers affect how fresh plants work in potions? After working with compost and other natural fertilizers, neither of us really smelled like a rose… or anything especially pleasant. The looks on Blaise's and Daphne's faces when they ran into us on their way out of the common room told us all we needed to know.

"So I should probably had to the dungeon to take a shower before dinner ends…" I said, heading back to the portrait hole.

"Or…" She started, grabbing my arm, "… You could share mine…"

I grinned. "Hmm… Smelly boys' shower in the damp and cold Slytherin dorms or shower with my hot and naked girlfriend. Merlin, what a decision!"

She laughed and tugged me toward her stairs. As we undressed, again I marveled at her confidence. Hermione wasn't tarty like some of the other girls – she didn't shorten her skirts or tighten her blouse – but it was clear that she was comfortable in her own skin. The fact that she stood totally bare before me, letting me gaze at every inch of her creamy skin, wearing only a smirk and excited flush to her cheeks, was proof of that.

Coyly, she led me into the spacious Heads' bathroom. When I saw the large glass and marble enclosure with multiple shower heads, I was instantly jealous. Not even the Prefects' Bathroom was this nice. With her wand, Hermione adjusted the temperature of the water to be perfectly steamy and ushered me into the shower.

Blaise had left his soaps on one of the built-in shelves, so I didn't have to worry about smelling like a girl or, more specifically, Hermione. Although we had been sleeping together since before Christmas, I didn't want to make her uncomfortable with the suggestion of altering our routine. Then again, I'd forgotten my girlfriend was Hermione Granger.

After soaking her curls and sweeping them out of her face, she grabbed Blaise's shampoo. Hermione gestured for me to kneel so she could wet and wash my hair. Humoring her, I did as she requested. The warm water relaxed my muscles and I was almost purring at the way her fingers massaged my scalp. When I stood to rinse the soap away, she surprised me again.

Using a sponge and her hands, she cleaned my body. I couldn't do more than follow her directions and indulge in the way her skin felt on mine. More than that, I savored the way she was taking care of me. She washed my shoulders and rubbed away any residual soreness. "Fuck, Granger," I groaned, not really comprehending that I was speaking aloud, "I think I love you."

"What?" She squeaked. "What did you say?"

I thought over my uninhibited exclamation and wondered if she was worried that I didn't mean it… or maybe worried that I did. I pondered a bit more, despite her obvious frustration at my silence, and discovered that I had indeed fallen in love with little swot.

I took the sponge from her hands and set it to the side. I grabbed her hair potion (made to control the frizzy mess her curls had been for years) and moved her to stand in front of me. While I worked the solution through her hair, I looked her straight in her golden eyes. "I've fallen in love with you. I'm not sure how it happened… but there it is. You're an amazing bird, Hermione, and I'm not quite sure why you'd even give the time of day to git like me. But… Yeah… I didn't mean to say it out loud like that, but I am glad you know."

I'd never seen gob-smacked like it looked on Hermione. Her eyes were wide and her jaw gaped. I decided to give her time to process, so I spun her around to continue working on her hair. I ran a comb through the wet strands while I thought through my declaration. I was cupping water over her head when I heard her voice. "Why?"

I poured her soap into my hands and started lathering her skin. "You smell like heaven. You make me laugh. You're smart enough to shame every pureblood, myself included. You're confident and fit. You're friendly to everyone, former bullies or not. You're open-minded and willing to give even Slytherin snobs the chance to prove they're worthy of your time."

I knelt before her again and started working my way up her legs, but never broke eye contact. "You're incredibly sexy without even trying. You have a wicked sense of humor and a sinful imagination. You can make me focus on the dullest lecture or wipe every thought from my head." I massaged her hips and urged her legs to spread further. "You taste like honey everywhere and I could happily spend eternity between your thighs." I dipped forward and ran my tongue through her folds as proof of my declaration and moaned at her sweet flavor.

"When I'm with you, I don't care what anyone else thinks. Lucius' bigotry has never made him happy. Slytherin snobbery hasn't kept my housemates warm at night. Potter's antagonism and Weasley's jealousy doesn't make them feel on top of the world when you turn your amazing eyes their way. It's not just one or two things about you that I kind of like, Hermione. For the past six years, I let prejudice color how I looked at you. Now that I've been able to get past that and see _who_ you are and not just _what_ I thought you were, I've fallen for you harder and faster than I thought I was capable."

She stared down at me, stunned and speechless (for once). While she worked out her thoughts, I continued to clean her, making sure to soap every coral-painted toe completely. Finally, she whispered, "Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

I set her foot down and rose to my feet. "Because I only just realized it. I knew I cared for you… was starting to have deeper feelings. But honestly, it wasn't until I said it aloud a few minutes ago that I realized what that tightness in my chest and uncharacteristic need to please actually mean."

Through the water coming down on us I could see her eyes well and chin pucker. I had no idea if that was a good sign or a bad one. I took the opportunity to hopefully ease her discomfort. "You don't have to say it just because I don't know how to control my big mouth."

When I felt my back slam against the tiled wall, I was still confused, but her hands pulling my head down for an enthusiastic kiss resolved any lingering questions I had regarding how she felt about my confession. Hermione's tongue plundered my mouth and I had no problem mirroring her enthusiasm. After a few minutes or an eternity, she released my lips to nip at my neck before licking and kissing her way down my chest and torso. When she settled on her knees, she looked up at me with a mischievous glint in her honey eyes that made my heart stutter.

With a genuine smile that contradicted the wonderfully sinful things that her hands were doing to my cock, she leaned forward to give my tip a sweet kiss. "I won't forget that you bested my Gryffindor courage by saying at first, if you give me credit for being Slytherin enough to relax you into doing it." I looked down at her curiously and she giggled (but never slowed her hands). "You look at me like Blaise looks at Daph, Harry looks at Gin, and Ron looks at roast chicken. I knew you loved me… You should know that I'm in love with you too… My pride just wanted to hear it from you before I confessed. Now though, I want to show you just how much I completely adore you."

She leaned forward, locked her eyes on mine, and took me into her mouth. My eyes rolled back in my head and I slumped against the wall to keep upright. After she made me come so hard I saw spots, I turned off the water, toweled us both dry, and spent the rest of the evening in her silenced room returning the favor over and over.

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**AN: Thanks for reading! Please leave a note!**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: This chapter is mostly filler, but explains a few things coming up. RealJena is my goddess beta and deserves many many thanks with a statue and altar. With the stupid snow getting ready to hit the East Coast, I may be able to post again tonight if enough readers ask. Hope you enjoy!**

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Surprisingly, our mutual confessions led to our first real fight. I hadn't wanted to keep our relationship a secret. Daphne had been right the night of the masquerade and I was no longer oblivious to the looks Hermione received in the halls. Boys as young as third years followed her with eyes filled with awe and longing. Fifth and sixth year boys joined the girls to watch us run in the mornings, their eyes drawn to her bared midriff and the way what she called spandex clung to her body. The seventh year males jockeyed for the chance to partner her and walk her through the halls. I wanted her known as mine so everyone else would note to keep their hands off.

She didn't see the harm in keeping us a secret. Her roommate and his girlfriend already knew, so she didn't have to hide anything in her dorm. Not only did she claim to not notice the blatant flirting from our classmates, she didn't believe me when I pointed it out to her. Most of all, she said she didn't want to deal with the attitudes of Potter and the Weasleys. She knew that their reactions to her being in a relationship with her former and their current bully wouldn't be positive. Hermione said that they'd eventually understand if they got to know me, but I had zero desire to start a friendship with my Gryffindor antagonists. At a crossroads where neither of us were willing to give, I was eventually able to come up with a compromise.

We were lying in the sunny glade she had discovered outside of Hogsmeade. The spring afternoon had a refreshing crispness to the air. Pockets of wildflowers were starting to bud and the sun was warm and bright. The last thing I wanted to do was renew our argument. Her head rested on my chest and she twisted my Malfoy signet ring around its finger with her right hand. "How long has this been in your family?" She asked.

"Sixteen years," I answered and explained. "Purebloods have a high infant mortality rate. When I was born on time and healthy it was cause for celebration. Father had this ring fashioned after my first birthday and presented it on my eleventh. It's charmed to fit and was wrought with several protective spells and enchantments. It's a time honored Malfoy tradition that the ring _not_ be passed down; it remains with the Malfoy it was designed for until the grave. Each father designates the spells that go into the ring to protect his heir. I actually look forward to doing the same for my son when the time comes."

She twisted her body to look up at my face. "That's something you're already thinking about? Marriage and children?"

I shrugged. "If Lucius had his way, I would already be betrothed to some, as you once put it, pureblood princess. Mother however, refused to agree to any contract. She and father were an arranged marriage, as were Aunt Bellatrix and Uncle Rodolphus. Not a single one of them has stayed faithful to their spouse. Aunt Andromeda broke tradition and refused to marry the pureblood Swede she'd been contracted to by getting pregnant with my cousin Dora and marrying Uncle Ted the day they left Hogwarts. My grandparents disowned her for it, but she and my uncle are still like newlyweds. When she and mother meet for tea, on the rare occasions that they get together, the envy on Mother's face is clear." I chuckle at my loquaciousness. "But the short answer is yes, I've thought about the future and I see mine with a wife and children."

She looked back up at the sky. "I've never really thought about the future that far ahead. There's a lot that I want to do before I even think of settling down. I want to explore pyramids in Egypt, scuba dive in Greece, translate mysteries in Chinese and Japanese ruins… There's so much more to the world than this little island. I want to see as much of it as I can."

Honestly, her dream of solving time-tested riddles while traveling the globe… it wasn't something _I'd_ be allowed to consider; as such, it sounded like heaven. "Where would you go first?" I asked.

She grinned and closed her eyes. "I think… Romania. Ron's brother Charlie works at the reserves there and have always been fascinated by dragons."

While I wasn't thrilled by the Weasley connection, I couldn't help but tease her. "Well, there's one Dragon that's equally is fascinated by you."

Hermione rolled to her side and kissed my neck. "You're sweet. But seriously, think of all we use from dragons – scales, skin, blood, heartstrings… They are almost wholly magical and I'd love to learn more about them. Yes, unicorns are mostly magical too, and they're fine for girls like Parvati and Lavender, but I want a challenge!"

I leaned down and kissed her forehead. "How did I not know if this preoccupation with dragons before?"

She giggled and returned to her back. "It's not so much dragons specifically; it's adventure I crave. Since conception, my parents have mapped out my life. Discovering that I'm a witch was the first thing that didn't follow their design. Their plan for me after Hogwarts is to return to the Muggle world, go to a Muggle university, become a Muggle dentist, marry another Muggle dentist, take over their dental practice, and have three Muggle children for them to spoil and train just like they trained me." Her voice had turned bitter and she was scowling at the clouds. "Even before I knew I was a witch, I wanted to rebel against their expectations. I resent them for thinking I'll revert to their training when school ends. I'm _not_ going back to their status quo. I don't care if they cut me off. _No_ trust fund is worth losing a part of myself."

I wished I had her courage. I knew that when Hogwarts ended, I would be expected to join Father in his meetings at the Ministry, with the Goblins at Gringott's, with the Board of Supervisors at St. Mungo's. I had no desire to have my fingers in all the pies that he did, but I would definitely be cut off and disowned if I rebelled the way Hermione plan to. Regardless, her plans sounded exciting and I would imagine myself with her to occupy my mind during the brain numbing meetings I would be stuck in for hours.

"I want to start a new Malfoy tradition," I told her, startling her out of her introspection. Sliding off my crest ring, I used my wand to separate one of the dragons attached to the elaborate "M". I plucked hair from her head, twisted it with the hair of my own, pointed my wand, and transfigured the simple rope into a fine braided cord of copper and gold. Another charm attached to dragon to the chain. One final spell caused golden creature to briefly glow bright blue and I handed the jewelry to my girlfriend. "At least part of me will be able to join you on your adventures." With a huge smile that lit up her entire face, she sat up and faced me, turning her back to me when I gestured her to. I slipped the chain around her neck, swept her hair to the side, connected the clasp, and kissed her neck quickly. "It's charmed to be unbreakable, plus the other protection spells Father placed on the ring when it was designed." I had her turn so I could see how it looked.

The dragon laid against her chest right above her cleavage. I designed the chain long enough so the unique pendant could be hidden under her shirt. "If you pinch the dragon and say '_Sanctimonia Vincet Semper_', it becomes a portkey to the Manor. Mummy curses and charmed terra-cotta armies don't fool around; I want you to have a way to escape safely. Lucius can be scary, but he's not _really_ dangerous."

Hermione's slender fingers ran over the Dragon, appreciating the detailed engraving. "Draco, this may be the sweetest, most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me. If you can't or won't travel with me, this is the next best thing. But honestly, I'd rather have you with me. I'm not trying to guilt you because I know you have family obligations that have to come first. Maybe after you get settled, you could visit wherever I might be at the time."

In truth, her leaving Great Britain scared me. I had this fear that the cliché of "out of sight, out of mind" would hold more truth than "absence makes the heart grow fonder". I would do whatever I had to do to make those absences as short as possible. The end of our time at Hogwarts was only two months away; it didn't seem like enough time.

"One final charm," Hermione muttered and tapped the necklace with her wand. It promptly disappeared from sight. I felt my throat choke in anger, but she held up a hand to stall me. "It's a temporary disillusion charm that will automatically drop the soon as we finish NEWTs. Neither of us need to deal with the hassle of outing our relationship when our focus needs to be on studying. As soon as the last test ends, the necklace will be visible again," she explained simply. I understood her reasoning but still wasn't entirely happy. Seeing my expression, she cupped my neck and kissed me softly. "I'm not ashamed or embarrassed, Drake. I just know my friends. They aren't the most understanding people and have quick flare tempers. They would hex first and ask questions later. I don't want either of us to have to deal with that while our tests are looming. I promise, if you want, I'll show up to dinner that night wearing your Quidditch jersey and sit at the Slytherin table. I just really want to get NEWTS out of the way."

The thought of seeing Hermione in my jersey was too delicious to pass up. "Agreed," I conceded it was an acceptable compromise. I kissed her and held her close, knowing I'd count down the days until those damn tests were over.

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**AN: Please let me know whatcha think. ;)**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Totally sorry about the wait. Kids have been especially needy since snow cancelled the WHOLE FREAKING WEEK OF SCHOOL. Ugh. I seriously need to move to the Bahamas. I'll take hurricanes over blizzards ANY day. RealJena is my goddess of a beta, so I send her WARM wishes and big hugs. Hope you enjoy.**

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NEWTs conclude in three days. I didn't think it would be visible but hanging from one of the showerheads is the necklace I gave her. I suppose the disillusionment charm also drops if she takes the jewelry off. The thought of her not wearing it creates an ache in my chest. I don't like how strongly she's affected me since we got together. Even I can tell I've changed and I don't think Father will approve of the differences. Still… I don't _not_ want her. I unhook the necklace and slip it into my pocket before making my way back to the grounds, through the conveniently unguarded gate, and down the road to Hogsmeade and our glade.

It's trickier in the dark, but I still find the path into the woods that line the street in the Hogsmeade. The light from my wand keeps me from tripping over rocks and branches. I know I'm close when I have to hop over the small creek that flows into the lake. After the giant elm tree that has a centaur arrow in the trunk, I see the small grassy clearing with a brunette positioned in the center.

She is laying on her stomach, flipping through a book. When her amber eyes meet my gray ones, they're filled with sadness. "Do you honestly think I'd do those awful things you accused me of? Because if you do, what are you even doing here?"

I sit next to her, not daring to touch her yet. "It's jealousy, love. It's unfair that you're allowed to be friends with Blaise, but not me. You share a dorm and the advanced classes with Blaise. You have girls' nights with Daphne and Tracy. All of your Gryffindor mates accept other Slytherins in your life… why won't you tell them about me?" She opens her mouth to respond, but I hold up a hand to stop her. "No, I don't want to hear about waiting until after NEWTs. We've been together for almost a year and the only people who know are my best friend, who happens to be your roommate, and his girlfriend."

Hermione looks down, clearly ashamed. I have to ask, "Why does it even matter what Potter, Weasley, or anyone else thinks? If they don't think enough of you to respect what makes you happy, how can they even call themselves your friends?"

Although not the reason I've sought her out tonight, this is a conversation that has been necessary for some time. The frustration of this secret has been eating at me. Hermione's spine stiffens. "Does that mean you're going to tell Lucius and Narcissa that you love a mudblood? That you want out of the family politicking so you can go off on mad adventures with said mudblood until such time that she's ready to settle down and give them precious little half-blood grandchildren? That you want to ruin the impeccable Malfoy pureblood lineage with a common Muggleborn with nothing but perfect NEWT scores to her name?"

I have to smirk at her sarcasm; she doesn't think I'll do it. Her arguments for the past months have made me reconsider my plans. Between living in Malfoy Manor under my parents thumbs and doing what every Malfoy before me has done, or living a life of adventure going where I want, when I want, with the woman I love… there's really no choice to make. One of my vaults became mine alone when I turned seventeen; my Black family inheritance is more than enough to live on. Lucius can disown me if he wants. "I'll send it out to them after breakfast. You can even dictate it if you want. I like hearing you referring to yourself as my future wife and mother to my children. Did you realize…?"

Even in the dim light I can see her cheeks flare pink. "Draco, I didn't mean to imply…"

I hush her with a finger over her lips. "Didn't I just say that I liked it? If you were planning to stay and work for the Ministry, like everyone else, I could see marrying you before the end of the year. As it stands, I have no problem making a full commitment to you." I pull her close and kiss her temple. "You're mine, Granger, and I want everyone to know it."

She sighs and leans forward, resting her forehead on her knees. "You know I love you, Draco. I do, more than anything. As much as you hate faking our dislike for each other in public, you couldn't possibly hate it more than I do. To know how much you've changed… to hear those awful words fall from your lips… in the same voice that tells me you love me… I feel like I'm twelve years old again with Harry and Ron as my only friends.

"They stood by me when you guys would make fun of my teeth… when Lav and Parvati teased me for my clothes… when the twins would complain about respecting the rules. Before them, no one was ever in my corner. Even if we aren't as close as we once were, I can't forget that Ron's family has invited me to the Burrow and James and Lily have let me stay with them during breaks. In the past almost–seven years, those two have become the little brothers that I never knew I wanted. You and I both know how they feel about you… And I know that you enjoy tormenting them to keep them at a distance. All I'm asking is for three more days. Let us get these damned tests out of the way and go from there."

Despite her parents' lack of magic, our childhoods were very similar in how we were only children, spoiled materially but isolated. Her feelings toward Potter and Weasley sound like how I felt meeting Blaise (who had grown up in Italy) and becoming friends with him during First Year. It was also like having Adrian Pucey offer to work with me on my Quidditch skills that summer so I would be prepared for tryouts at the beginning of Second Year. Flint, Bletchley, Boles… They were all like surrogate older brothers and I can't think of anything I would risk those friendships for…

Well, fuck.

Hermione stares at me, watching the realization hit me. Smiling gently, she scoots closer to me. "Do you get it now? Dropping something like this on them… It's a surefire way to start a commotion. Call me selfish if you want, but this apprenticeship is dependent on my NEWT scores. I want to concentrate on studying, get these three days over and done, and stop keeping what I have with you a secret. Are you sure you don't care about your parents finding out?" She asks, laying her head on my shoulder.

I nod and kiss her curls. "I've decided that I'm not going to let Father control my life the way Abraxas controlled his. What you said a few weeks ago stuck with me. What good are filled vaults and trust funds if you have no life? I've thought hard about this and I don't want to spend the best years of my life filling a chair in various boardrooms.

"Father has had the means to take Mother and me all over the world. Not once in my almost–eighteen years has he taken a vacation. He took me to Norway when I was ten, but that was because he had a meeting with the Durmstrang headmaster about my possible admission there. We portkeyed in and were back before nightfall, so that doesn't count.

"I may not be as into the history as you and Blaise, but I can't help but be intrigued by lost civilizations and possible origins of magic. Plus, I'm not a total dunce; if there's anything there about runes or potions, I am totally willing to help. Besides, where else could I learn from experts in such specialized fields?"

Her eyes light up, as I knew they would when I mentioned expanding educational opportunities. The more I seriously consider it, the more it seems like an endeavor that Lucius would support were it not for the involvement of a certain Muggleborn that regularly kicks my ass academically. Suddenly, sadness and fear dulled the shine of those cider-colored orbs. "You know there's nothing going on between Blaise and me, right? Neither of us would ever do that. I love you and you're his best friend, not to mention that Daphne would castrate him, dismember him, and then hex his stumps. I know with certainty that you didn't mean the slander of my blood; it would break my heart if you thought me capable of hurting you that way."

I pull her even closer. "That was jealousy speaking. You already know that I envy his ability to be friendly with you openly. The affection you share… What I wouldn't give to be able to do what he can. He can hug you in the halls. He can kiss your head after hard day. He can sit with you at the Gryffindor table and not get a second look. If I dare to start a conversation with you after Transfiguration, I get glared at like I were committing heresy. No, I don't think you or he would betray me that way, but I'm sick of the secret."

She bites her lip and looks up at the lightening sky. After several minutes of silent contemplation, she smirks at the sunrise. "Honestly I'm sick of it too. You know that. Would you agree to a happy medium until tests are over? We stop fighting, and just interact in the halls the way we do when we're alone. Maybe we don't draw attention to ourselves, but no more hiding what we are to each other. Anyone who wants to cause a fuss over it can shove it," she concludes with a devilish grin.

I have to ask. "And when Potter and the Weasleys fuss?"

Hermione winces slightly, but holds firm. "It'll be rough, and Ron especially will get nasty, but I love _you_. I want to be with _you_. If they are really, truly my friends, they will set aside their dislike for you and accept that you make me happy." Her soft hand cups my cheek, her thumbs stroking over my stubble. "Because you do, you know? No one has ever made me feel a special and is cared for as you do every day."

"I love you too," I whisper into her curls and we sit in the silence of the clearing until the sun is fully up. We lay in each other's arms, kissing and touching, but mainly savoring the peaceful calm and togetherness before returning to the chaos of the Hogwarts halls.

We walk to the still–unlocked gates hand-in-hand out of pure habit. I start to release her fingers from mine; without even a glance, her clasped tightens and she steps closer. "No more hiding, Drake. Not anymore."

When we pause before the gigantic oak doors into the Entrance Hall, I stop her from pulling them open and stepped behind her. "I think you forgot something," I murmur and sweep her wild hair over one shoulder. I pull the necklace from my pocket and re-clasp it around her neck. "I want my dragon on you for all to see. I hope you realize there's no getting rid of me now." I press a kiss to her neck before readjusting her hair down her back.

"I accept your mark and don't care who sees. Although it's rather unfair for you to have a claim on me while you have nothing that tells the world that you're mine," she pouts.

She's right and now that it's pointed out, I want to fix it. The silver dragon blatantly says "Draco Malfoy". What in Merlin's name could discreetly mark me as Granger's? One look at her face tells me she has an idea.

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**AN: I will do my absolute best to update again tonight or tomorrow. Let me know what you think...**

**PS: Although it isn't a plot point and intentionally left vague, any ideas of who Hermione lost her virginity to? It becomes rather clear (in a vague way) next chapter. I've left clues in previous chapters.**


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: My power is out so I'm doing this on my phone. I can't flip back and forth between tabs easily, so forgive me if I missed any of RealJena's edits. She's an amazing beta and awesome friend. (Xoxo). So no one wanted to guess who Hermione's first was, but like I said, it becomes vaguely obvious in the first paragraph. Hope you enjoy.**

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For her eighteenth birthday, her parents sent her a platinum charm bracelet. While clearly Muggle, the jingling charms fit my witch perfectly. An open book, a sleeping kitten, a sun, and a strange flat-topped hat with a dangling tassel glittered around her wrist. Her friends added to the charms with magical icons at Christmas. From of Blaise, a wand that fired harmless glittery sparks. Daphne gifted her a tiny fairy that fluttered her wings. I gave her an orchid that released the vanilla jasmine scent that was so uniquely "Hermione". Potter gave her a Muggle witch riding a broom to tease her about her fear of heights and flying. Finally, from my mother's cousin and Potter's godfather, a jeweled griffin with ruby eyes and diamond chips on the wings. I had no idea why Sirius Black would give such an extravagant, expensive gift to his godson's school-girl friend and Hermione refused to answer my queries except to tell me that it made her slightly uncomfortable, but that Sirius had been gratuitous with his gift-giving since she met him after First Year.

Using her wand, she releases the loop attaching the griffin to the links encircling her wrist. With her own skillful transfiguration, she adds a clip and hands it to me. "Your dragon rests over my heart. When you attach this to your tie, my claim on you will do the same."

I agree and after a long, passion filled kissed by the stairs, we go our separate ways to shower and dress. Nott and Goyle give me a curious glare when the gemstones of my unusual tie clip catch their eyes. I ignore them and had to the Great Hall for breakfast and some much needed coffee.

After taking my seat at the Slytherin table, I look across the hall at the Gryffindors. Weaselette is fawning over the now visible pendant around my girl's neck. I flash her smile, which she returns with a faint blush. Weasley continues stuffing his face, oblivious to everything and everyone around him. Potter, for once, is not so clueless. He grins at Hermione's pink cheeks, follows her line of vision, and loses his smile. Emerald eyes narrow when he looks at my tie then flips his gaze to the pendant his girlfriend is cooing over… and back to me.

His brow furrows for a moment, comes to a conclusion, grabs my witch's hand, and pulls her from the Great Hall. I don't hesitate in following them and neither do two other Slytherins that have been silently watching as well.

When he catch up, Hermione is standing proudly defiant against the stone wall as Potter stares at the dragon over her heart. "How long, 'Mione?" he asks, rather calmly in my opinion.

"Since before Halloween. Mid-October," she answers, not hesitating a bit or pretending she doesn't know what he's talking about.

He turns his head to glare at Blaise, Daphne, and me. "How come they knew and not us?" he asks with a slight pout of hurt.

"How accepting would you have been, Harry? The way you guys hate each other is second only to Salazar and Godric themselves. Ron confronted me after you told him that you'd seen us running together. During our laps, we discovered we have more in common than not. Blaise knew because he was trying to play matchmaker until I told him that we were already together. Honestly Harry, if you'd known sooner, can you _truly_ say that you wouldn't have tried to split us up?"

Her amber eyes blazed into his green ones, daring him to lie to her. "He's a bully, 'Mione. All he's going to do is use you and hurt you."

The gold flecks near her pupils flash. "So he's working a long game, right? Awfully dedicated if he's spent more than half a year playing me. What could I possibly do or say to convince _you_ that Draco is not going to hurt me?"

He points a threatening finger at me. "He's kept you a secret! There's no way he's going to tell his parents about you; he'll be disowned! You'll never be more than his dirty little secret."

Hermione's jaw drops in speechless offence, so I step forward to correct him. "Potter, your friend is the one to suggest the secrecy. She didn't want to deal with the fury from you and the ginger Weasels." I wince at her sharp elbow in my ribs, but continue. "Being with Granger, hearing her career plans… I don't want to be Lucius' clone. I have vaults that are mine even if my parents do disinherit me. I can't think of a better life than going on adventure after adventure with the brightest witch of the age. Even better if the Head Boy and the other Seventh-Year Slytherin prefect join us." Hermione's eyes flick to the blonde female observer, who shrugs with a coy grin before snuggling into Blaise's side. "Did you really think he'd leave her behind?" I ask her with a chuckle.

"Hold up!" Potter's voice booms. "So you're abandoning us? We're all supposed to go work at the Ministry. Ron's going to be an auror, I'm working at Sports and Games, and you're going to work in the Magical Creatures department. We decided this years ago!"

"Harry, we decided that in third year. Should I remind you of other things we decided at thirteen?" As I only knew of Potter as my nemesis, I couldn't begin to guess what caused his cheeks to blaze crimson. "Things change. I can't think of many things _worse_ than being stuck in an office or behind a desk. Blaise and I have been offered apprenticeships in Italy; apparently Draco and Daphne are coming with us. I hoped you'd be pleased for me, in both the relationship that makes me truly happy and the new path I'll be travelling, but apparently that's asking too much from my best friend." She shakes her head in disappointment, comes to stand beside me, and wraps her arm around my waist. "Things change, Harry," she repeats. "Strangers become friends, enemies become lovers… plans that were made as a child don't fit into the life of the adult that you become."

Potter steps closer and stares her down, making my protective instincts flare. "And are you making that choice? You're choosing _Malfoy_ and his Slytherins over Ron and me, who've been your friends for years?"

Hermione blinks, then scowls. "Do I have to? Are you giving me an ultimatum? It's either you guys or them?" she asks, squeezing my waist before gesturing to Blaise and Daph.

Potter's jaw tenses for just a moment before his whole demeanor relaxes. "Of course not. We love you, 'Mione and if Malfoy know what's good for him, he won't ever hurt you. I've seen him duel in DADA… I can take him." His cocky grin makes me want to pull my wand, but my witch simply rolls her eyes. "But if I had issued an ultimatum…?"

Her cheek twitches as she holds back a devilish smirk. "Then I'd really miss you," she says quietly, making my breath catch. "If you were making me choose, I'd go with the ones who take me as I am and just want me to be happy."

Potter flacks a glance at me before hugging his friend. "That's all we want too. Ron's going to sputter and swear, but he'd do that regardless. Gin and I… we'll support you. You deserve every good thing to come into your life," he says and cuts his eyes to me again. "Even if we don't necessarily agree with it."

"If you're quite finished…" a drawling Snape interjects, "… Miss Granger, Mister Zabini, your History of Magic examiners are waiting for you in Professor Binns' lecture hall. The rest of you," he snarls as Hermione and Blaise hurry away, "find somewhere else to congregate. Those of you not done with your testing," he continues, eyeing us all but Potter, who smirks, "you should be studying. I expect an 'O' average from my Slytherins. Do _not_ disappoint me."

NEWTs for Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, and Defense took up the first two days of testing. This afternoon is Herbology, Astronomy is tonight. Tomorrow is Runes and Divination with the last day covering Care of Magical Creatures and Arithromancy. During the week we await scores from the ministry, the Seventh-Years are expected to pack, prepare CVs for prospective employment, tutor struggling Fifth- and Sixth-Years, and, in some cases, assist the professors in grading their finals. Frivolous down time is frowned upon at Hogwarts.

While I wait for my Herbology NEWT to begin, which I'm more than ready for thanks to my witch's revision plans, I draft a letter to my parents. It would be very easy to manipulate the facts so that it seems that I'm merely going on holiday with Blaise, but my prejudiced parents need the facts so they have the chance to adjust their mindsets.

I start off by updating them on my schooling and grades since I last saw them over Easter. From there, I tell them of the opportunity presented to the Head Students and the chance to learn from Masters in Charms, Potions, Runes, Arithromancy… and opportunity Father would demand be offered to me and would set him working on learning who to bribe to make it happen. That gives me a private chuckle, knowing I can get recommendation letters from Snape and Flitwick without his Galleons.

Then I tell them about Hermione. About the Head Girl who is frightening smart as well as stunningly beautiful. Who has manners and social graces to match any pureblood debutante. Whose parents are just as well off in the Muggle world as we are in ours, so gold-digging isn't a concern. I slip the detail in that she's Muggleborn at the end, hoping that they'll consider all her positive qualities instead of immediately discounting her due to her blood status.

Finally, I close the letter by telling them that I _will_ be accompanying Blaise and Hermione to Italy. Part of it will be a holiday to relax after finishing school; the other part will be exploring and introducing myself to the Masters and curse breakers. Even menial grunt-work on a project this historic would be a learning experience and an honor to take part in.

I look over the letter and make a few edits, but keep most of the content. Hermione gave me a messenger bag made from the skin of a Welsh Green for my birthday; I slip the letter into an inner pocket for safe-keeping. I wouldn't put it past either of my parents to arrive in person and drag me home as soon as tests are done. No, I'll be sending Ares to Wiltshire right before flooing to the Ministry from Hogsmeade to get our international portkey to Italy.

That settled, I lean back in bed and relax. I know the material, I have to girl I love, and she's _finally_ acknowledged that we're together. I have plans for a summer that can only lead to more amazing experiences with my best friend and girlfriend. I haven't looked forward to anything this much since I got my Hogwarts letter seven years ago.

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**AN: please let me know any thoughts or critiques. There's only three chapters left of this baby. Tell me what you thought of Harry's reaction.**


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Yes, it's been a week, but I really can't be bothered to turn on my laptop at night after work and I finally get to relax and I hate trying to upload chapters from my phone. We hear from Hermione in this chapter and yes, it's rather short, but it was a natural stopping point and I fully intend to add another chapter later today. Enjoy. This one was A LOT of fun to write.**

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**Hermione POV**

Everyone always asks, "So what happened with you and Malfoy?" Not, "What did you discover in Pompeii?" or "What was it like discovering proof that Crete was the basis for Atlantis before Thera erupted on Santorini more than three thousand years ago?" No, no one seems to care about the amazing and groundbreaking things our group has learned and discovered. No, let's focus our attention and interest on Hermione's love life.

To begin with, Ron predictably threw an immature hissy-fit when my relationship with Draco came out. He was surprisingly oblivious to the gossip in the halls as he was cramming either last minute knowledge into his brain or as much food as possible into his gob. As promised, I wore Draco's Quidditch jersey to breakfast the morning after NEWTS were done. Ginny smirked, Harry rolled his eyes, but Ron was more focused on the food offerings appearing on the table.

"Whatchu wearin' 'at for, 'Mione?" he managed to ask around a disgusting mouthful of scrambled eggs.

I looked down at the shimmery green material and the black leggings I wore underneath. "It's a lazy morning. I didn't feel like changing out of my pajamas."

He grimaced. "Why're you wearing a Slytherin jersey to bed? We lost to them!"

He was _really_ thick! "Ron, didn't you give Lavender your jersey last year? I know Susan from Hufflepuff wears Dean's."

"Yeah 'Mione, 'cuz Lav was my girlfriend and Dean's been dating Susan since he got over Gin… _NO_!"

He finally got it. Ginny patted him back sympathetically while Harry bowed his head, trying to hide his snickers. "Tell me it's Nott. Please say it's Nott," my friend groaned. Wrinkling my nose at the thought of the skinny, rather rabbity-looking boy, I turned my back to the table. Proudly across my back, in silver satin, was the number 7 and the name MALFOY.

Ron's face turned as red as his hair and he looked as though he was choking on his tongue. Sputtering and babbling like a boiling-over cauldron, he allowed Harry to drag him into the entrance hall. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Draco's gaze lock on me in concern. I smiled and shook my head, letting him know not to worry. The wink and smirk I got in response gave me shivers.

I could hear snippets of Ron's verbal explosion happening in the corridor. "Evil", "rat-faced", "arsehole", and "bastard" became rather repetitive. I could just picture Harry getting impatient with our friend's lack of imaginative insults.

Finally Ron walked back in, still red-faced and panting, but no longer screaming or being dragged. Unfortunately, he went directly to the Slytherin table. "You may have Hermione fooled for now, but if you ever hurt her… there's nowhere you'll be able to hide safely."

Draco's snotty attitude shot to the forefront. "I hope you're not thinking you scare me, Weasel."

Ron barked out a laugh. "Not me. 'Mione. She can be right scary when her temper gets going and she probably knows more curses than an auror. You get on her bad side, _she'll_ hunt you down to make you regret it. We," he said, gesturing to the Gryffindor side of the Great Hall, "will watch and laugh. So mind yourself." He stomped back to our table, plopped into his seat, and shoved a whole muffin into his mouth. Beside him, Harry shrugged. "I tried," he mouthed to me and I nodded my understanding.

The last week at Hogwarts, I helped administer Professor Vector's first and second year exams so I wouldn't obsess over my scores. If I got less than an "O" in History, Runes, or Arithmancy, the Pompeii offer would be withdrawn. Fortunately Blaise, Daphne, and Draco knew how to distract me and encourage me at the same time.

For the first two weeks after we left Hogwarts, we planned to relax at Blaise's family estate. Honestly, the idea of a Mediterranean holiday with my closest friends and the man I loved was one I dreamed of. Despite my parents threatening my trust fund, saying I'd be cut off if I didn't stop this "magic foolishness", I was actually happy and excited for what was to come. Even if I got nothing but "D" and "T" scores on my NEWTs, I was never going to live as a Muggle again. Magic was too much a part of me.

Finally the trunks were packed and the house tables were abandoned for the bittersweet final meal as a Hogwarts student. I sat between Draco and Daphne, filling my plate with bacon, eggs, and toast when hundreds of owls started flying through the windows, dropping Ministry envelopes on the graduates and rising-Sixth-Years: OWL and NEWT results. When mine landed on the table, I lifted it with shaking fingers. Taking a deep breath, I broke the seal and looked down.

**Transfiguration: O **

**History of Magic: O**

**Charms: O **

**Herbology: O**

**Potions: O **

**Runes: O**

**Defense/Dark Arts: E **

**Arithmancy: O**

**Astronomy: O**

I gasped and covered my mouth. Nine. I had eight "O" NEWTs and one E. I didn't care that I didn't beat Dumbledore's score of ten like everyone expected. I got the three I needed plus six others to pad my resume… and boost my self-esteem.

Draco beamed as he looked over his own then swapped sheets with me. He'd gotten an Outstanding score in Charms, Potions, Herbology and Runes; in Astronomy and Defense, he Exceeded Expectations. He playfully scowled at me for outscoring him, "again" he stressed, but his eyes - gray with green specks AND a dark blue ring – shined with pride at my accomplishments.

Blaise and I swapped papers next. He had matched my scores in everything but Herbology and Transfiguration. He squeezed my shoulder proudly and said to be grateful we didn't graduate like Muggles because that would result in me having to give a speech in front of the entire Seventh-Year student body along with their friends and families. I was very good at very many things, but public speaking was not one of them.

Looking a few tables to my left, I could see Harry and Ron looking incredibly relieved at whatever scores they received. Although I still considered them my best friends, the undeniable truth was that I was no longer as close to them as I once was. The distance hurt but I could tell by their tentative smiles from across the hall that our friendship would always be there and we could always count on each other, no matter the distance.

Draco slipped a piece of parchment out of his bag, made a copy of his scores (and mine for some reason), folded all the documents together, and whistled for Ares. The jet black owl landed, dipped his beak in his master's pumpkin juice, allowed the letter to be tied to his leg, accepted some toast crust as a treat, and took off without needing directions. That meant by default he was heading to Malfoy Manor… to Draco's parents… to Lucius and Narcissa.

Shit.

"Umm… Draco? Something you might want to tell me?"

He winced minutely. "I told you I'd tell them about you. I told them about your intelligence, your beauty, your poise and ambition, and our relationship. Before you say anything, I _did_ mention your Muggleborn status too. I wanted to give them time to reflect on all your amazing traits before automatically deciding that a teensy thing like your parentage made any bit of difference."

I was speechless and remained so until it was time to leave. Most of the students were lining up to take carriages to Hogsmeade Station; only three others besides Blaise, Daphne, Draco, and myself were heading to Hogsmeade proper. I hugged Harry, Ron, and Ginny at the gates, promising to write and asking do the same. Harry grabbed Ginny's hand as Draco wrapped his arm around my shoulders. We said good-bye again and went our separate ways.

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**AN: Hope this was fun for you. Please let me know what you thought!**


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Yeah, I know I said 1 more chapter today, but seeing as how I work all next week and I REEEEEALY don't want to hold off on the last chapter until next weekend, I'm gonna make it 1 now and the last chapter tonight. Big wet smooches go out to RealJena for her beta job. Please don't forget to let me know what you think and if you haven't read chapter 10 yet, now would be a good time to do so. Enjoy!**

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The apprenticeship program made sure that the portkeys that we needed to get to Elba were ready and waiting for us when we flooed to the Ministry. Those two weeks were exactly what all of us needed. Sun, relaxation, no worries except for how we were going to spend our days. Several times, Daphne and I would trek out on our own, leaving the boys to have time on their own, whether flying (which Daphne wasn't a big fan of either) or listening to Quidditch on the wireless. A few times, on rainy days, I took them over to my parent's empty villa to introduce them to television and the Muggle magic of DVDs. All-in-all, those fourteen days of leisure de-stressed us so we were prepared for the pressures of the apprenticeship.

Pompeii was like nothing I'd ever experienced. Not only was there evidence of archaic magic that we could only begin to understand, but _damn_ those ancient Italians, Muggle and Wizarding alike, were some randy bastards! Phallic streetlamps, erotic carvings on cobblestones, and it seemed like there was a brothel behind every other doorway. It's no wonder that powerful aphrodisiac spells and erectile dysfunction potions were the most plentiful of the magical discoveries at first.

Draco was able to gain an apprenticeship with the famed Potions Master Maugraby Tippetarius after he presented his letter of recommendation from Snape. Daphne worked intermittently with the Masters in Charms or the curse-breakers, not as an apprentice, but more for something to do and help out while Blaise and I were busy.

And Merlin, were we busy! We were given research projects, translation jobs, formulaic equations to solve and present to our masters… more than one night, we fell asleep in our little apprentice hut, too tired to apparate to the cottage we rented with our significant others in Naples. I can't say that Draco's jealousy _never_ made an appearance, but Daphne was able to reassure him of Blaise's devotion to her and my own to him.

We worked in Pompeii for two and a half years, learning more than I thought possible, and I only thirsted for more. When the Magic Historian Masters offered the chance to do research in Crete, I wanted to jump at the chance, but I knew I needed to discuss it with Draco before accepting the job.

Blaise had proposed to Daphne while we were in Pompeii and they were antsy to return to England. Once they were properly married, they would think about returning to other sites – like ancient Alexandria or the Yonaguni monument – after their honeymoon. While Draco and I were happily living together and in love, he had yet to ask that important four word question.

Not that I was worried. He was more than happy to follow me to Crete when I broached the topic. His family had a manor on the beautiful island; we would be able to reside there while I worked at the research site and Draco continued his Potions apprenticeship with another Master recommended by Master Tippetarius and Snape, who he was still in regular contact with.

My parents had written me off when I made the concrete decision against returning to the Muggle world. The first six months I was Italy, I tried writing to them several times, but my owls always returned with unopened letters. The only communication I had from them was a notice from their solicitor that my trust fund had been dissolved. Other than a twinge of regret for disappointing the couple that had birthed and raised me, I didn't feel much of a loss. Love wasn't as much a part of my family life as impressions and causing envy.

Draco and his parents, however, were giving Ares quite the workout. Surprisingly, Lucius was proud to bursting of his son's apprenticeship under such renowned Masters and Narcissa… well, it took a little bit of time for her to accept our relationship. Her visions of a wedding full of pureblood pomp and circumstance were moot. When they visited us in Naples, the four of us had a long, civil discussion.

Well, no one was hexed, at least. Narcissa had received Draco's letter first and was originally so impressed with the enclosed NEWT scores and Draco's effusive compliments that nuptial sugarplums danced in her head as she ran to give the letter to her husband. Lucius was the one to point out the deficiency in my lineage that she had overlooked in her giddiness. _He_ was to one that was able to get over it first, realizing that my blood status had no bearing on the things that mattered to the Malfoy family when breeding heirs – intelligence, beauty, strength, and power. He could also admit that injecting some new blood into the line could only help "improve the stock".

Narcissa tried many times to trip me up. She didn't realize that stuffy Pureblood aristocracy had the same grace, polish, and manner requirements that affluent, elitist Muggles do. I'd been trained since infancy to be a perfect hostess or guest, keeping a haughty, composed air about me and never showing a single ruffled hair. It frustrated her greatly not to cause me to lose my cool. It wasn't until the end of their visit that I had Narcissa's reluctant acceptance.

I returned to Malfoy Manor – Mediterranean Edition covered in dust, shell debris, salt, and volcanic ash. I felt disgusting. Draco's proficiency in Potions made him an excellent cook and he happily experimented in the kitchen when he had time to spare. He called out to me about dinner being ready as I rushed through a shower. When I returned to the table, he presented spanakopita and grilled swordfish. I'd never been a picky eater and the new flavors indigenous to Greece were delicious. For dessert, we sipped coffee with tentura and just relaxed, enjoying each other's presence.

"I received a package from my mother this morning," Draco said off-handedly as I snuggled into his side.

"Really?" I said drowsily. I didn't want to talk about his parents right then.

He shuffled a little and reached into his pocket. "I wanted to see what you thought." His clenched fist opened and it took me a minute to gather my thought. A gold band with four leaf shaped emeralds framing a brilliant marquise-cut diamond. "This ring has been in my family since the 1500's. It's been passed down through the family from mother to daughter. It rightfully should have gone to Aunt Andi, but she was disowned. Aunt Bella never had children, so Mother received the ring, even though I'm not a girl." The way he said it and my exhaustion made me chuckle a little. No, he was _certainly not_ a girl. "Normally, such a thing would stay in her vault until I married and had a girl or one of my heirs had one. But, well, I want you to read the letter Mother sent with it."

I could only imagine what Narcissa had to say. We'd never really progressed past frosty acceptance, despite Lucius' patrician amicability. What I read on the parchment nearly shocked me to tears.

_Dearest Draco,_

_I don't know if you've ever seen this ring. This is one of the only Rosier heirlooms Mother had in her possession when she died. The history is quite extensive; I'm sure your charming girlfriend will love researching its provenance. I also thought that the time might be right to ask the delightful girl a rather important question. I understand that cohabitation before matrimony is quite common in the Muggle world, but I can only accept so much._

_Miss Granger has passed every test I've pressed upon her and I've come to see that she would make a lovely addition to both the Malfoy and Black family lines. Your father is already quite fond of the girl. Please let me know once this is done so I can schedule the appropriate events and venues._

_Much love,_

_Mother_

Well. I'd been more overwhelmed, although I suppose to Narcissa Black Malfoy, this was effusive and gushing praise indeed. I flicked my eyes back to Draco who was looking rather uncomfortable. "Please tell me this isn't a proposal," I said wryly.

"No!" he exclaimed and took the letter back. "I wanted to let you know that Mother seems to have come around. I thought you'd like to research the history of this ring if you have any energy to spare after working with Minoan ruins all day."

"Oh." That was rather anticlimactic.

"If I had been asking, what would your answer have been?" he asked, standing and stretching.

I stood as well and started heading for the bedroom. "I guess you'll have to ask to find out."

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**AN: I wanted to switch it up and have Narcissa as the unaccepting one. Also... that stuff about Pompeii being one of the horniest Roman Empire cities... History Channel verified. Some of the stuff found in the ruins was... _wow!_ Definitely one of the more entertaining documentaries randomly saved to my DVR and one now locked from my kids cuz I don't want to answer _those_ kind of questions yet. Reviews appreciated!**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: This is the end, my friends. A final sloppy kiss blown to RealJena for betaing this for me and a hope that I get a few more thoughts about this silly little story. Enjoy!**

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**Draco POV**

I was a fucking coward. When I saw the ring from Mother, my first instinct was to head to the excavation site and propose then and there. I couldn't see my life without Hermione Jane Granger by my side. More and more, while our sex life was plentiful and exciting, my fantasies started featuring platinum bands around fingers and her stomach swollen with my child. I made a decision right before succumbing to sleep: as soon as Hermione discovered the origin of the ring, I would ask the question that would make it hers.

I had given her a starting point to work from, but her work with Bronze Age ruins left her little time or energy to devote to researching jewelry. I even worked a little with her computer (which she spent a month tutoring me on) to leave hints in her internet history that would pop up when she would search for information relating to her Cretan apprenticeship work. I never knew if she came across it until she appeared across from me at dinner with a watery grin. "Anne Boleyn," she said simply.

I couldn't help it; my smile was huge. "What?" I asked, wanting to know what she learned.

"Anne Boleyn was a witch who was executed for practicing. The ring was passed down to Elizabeth I, who died without a child. She left the ring to the next king's wife, Anne of Denmark. She was far removed from the sordid Boleyn history and gave it as a gift to a courtier, Catherine Yaxley. She married Arthur Parkinson. Their daughter Maria…" My adorable little swot actually listed five hundred years of marriages and children until ending with my grandmother's marriage to Cygnus Black. I don't think even Mother even knew her family history that extensively. "Should I write Narcissa and let her know what I've learned?" she asked shyly.

I shook my head. "I want to know if you'll wear this ring and give me the honor of becoming yours in every way. I want to know if you'll be mother to the next generation of blonde, beautiful, brainy Malfoys that will surely rule Hogwarts. I want to know if you'll wear this ring until we have a daughter that turns seventeen, when you can pass it down to her with its full history and significance. I want to know if you'll marry me, Hermione."

Her gorgeous whisky-colored eyes widened in surprise. Her eyes teared-up and the lower lip I loved to nibble on trembled. The silence stretched on and on until finally, she started nodding her head. "Yes."

**XxXxXxXxXx**

I look at the little girl in my lap. She has her grandmother's wild dark curls and her mother's gray eyes. "Poppa, does this mean that one day Mother will give me the pretty ring?"

I kiss her forehead and nod. "Your Uncle Scorpius and your mother will both inherit many Malfoy heirlooms, but that ring is just for you. One day, when you're old enough to marry, your mother Regina will give you her ring and tell you the story that goes along with it. It's a rather long tale. But I know you love the epics. And when you have a daughter, you'll give her the ring when she turns seventeen and tell her the story your mother told you."

She wraps her arms around my shoulders and kisses my cheek. "I love you, Poppa."

"I love you too, Sabrina. Go give your nana a kiss goodnight before you go to bed, princess."

My adorable granddaughter, first born of my daughter Regina and her husband Joshua Corner, had me positively wrapped around her little finger. Hermione had written out the long history of the Boleyn ring (as it was now known) and on Regina's seventeenth birthday, gave her the ring and its tale. I look out the windows at the New York skyline. We'll be here for two more months.

After Crete, Hermione and I returned to Wiltshire and performed for Mother, smiling through the pretentious engagement party we had no say in and married in her ostentatious ceremony. She never knew we had a private ceremony of our own in Greece before we ever came back to England. That way she got her society page photos and Hermione and I had a special memory that was just ours.

After marriage, we went to Japan to research a strange underwater pyramid. Eastern wizards are very secretive; it was a true honor for Hermione to be offered work there. That led to the excavation of Qin Shi Huang's necropolis and his terracotta army. Though not entirely magical, some of the more recently discovered statues were carved with runes in their bases. Hermione, by that time, was the most proficient freelance researcher and had her pick of jobs. When she became pregnant with Scorpius, she backed out of full excavations, preferring to do her research from home thanks to live video feeds from the site.

She stayed home with our son and less than a year later she was pregnant with our daughter. The pregnancy was hard on her and the healer told her after Regina was born that any future pregnancies could kill her. We were happy with what the gods had blessed us with and didn't press our luck.

When the British Museum, who was financing a large part of the Terracotta Army excavation, decided to take some of the statues and artifacts on tour, Hermione was asked to accompany the precious pieces. Neither of us minded travel but this was decidedly tricky with two small children in tow. We were able to expose our children to Los Angeles, Tokyo, Sydney, Rio de Janeiro, Montreal and Stockholm before they were sent their letters from Hogwarts. My little Scorpius was a Slytherin through and through, but a year later, Regina was sorted into Ravenclaw. There wasn't any doubt of that in my mind. Despite her blonde hair and gray eyes, she was her mother all over again.

Hermione stopped full-time excavating and researching, deciding to lecture about runes and history at other wizarding schools. We stayed home for winter and summer holidays while the kids were in school, but we traveled all over the world while they were boarding at Hogwarts. I still do some consulting for Malfoy Apothecaries, the only one of my father's businesses I cared to put work into expanding and improving, but mostly I'm retired. I simply enjoy the time with my wife, children, and grandchildren, feeling as though through them, I've leaving my mark in history. With their Malfoy and Granger genes, how could they do anything but?

Hermione walks in, her dark curls streaked with gray, but still looking far younger than her sixty-six years. Though curvier after bearing two children, her body is still toned and svelte. "So love, you up for a night-time jog with me?" she asks.

Her bright blue top clings and black spandex leggings show off the muscles in her calves and thighs. I don't want to leave the house when she looks like this. "What's in it for me?"

She bends down to tie her vivid pink trainers and the sight dries my mouth. "You've always said that the view is to die for…" Hermione gives me a cheeky wink and heads out the front door. "Hurry up or you'll have to find me. I really don't feel like thinking up clues for you to follow… again. I have far more events to draw from now… and way more places." A perfectly Malfoy smirk graces her rose-colored lips as she closes the door behind her.

Shit! I grab my own trainers, trying to tie them as I hop across the living room, hoping to catch her before she's too far ahead of me. In the hall, I'm pinned against the wall and snogged. "You should know by now, silly man, I'm always going to be where you can find me until the end of our days. Now… catch me if you can!"

She takes off at a sprint and I don't hesitate in pursuing. She's the only woman I've ever wanted to chase… and the view is _still_ spectacular.

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**AN: Ignore the little "C" and leave me your thoughts. I love 'em like chocolate!**


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